Gina coaxed, “Come on, girl. I know you need a drink. I can see it on your face.”
I strolled toward her and sat on one of the two vacant high seats at the end of the curved bar. Gina was right. I did need a drink. Or three. Maybe a bottle or ten. Who knew how trashed I would be by the time I left here.
The bathroom door opened and shut behind me, and the place quieted down noticeably.
I leaned on the bar and dropped my forehead onto a crooked arm. I groaned. “I’ll take two shots of whiskey and a beer. To start with.”
She whistled loud. “It must have been a hell of a night so far.”
I peeked up at her from my arm. “My dad is dead set. He won’t change his mind.”
The man who had exited the bathroom brushed my arm as he sat down on the remaining empty seat in the bar. I slow-blinked as the occupants of the place chattered on with gusto once more. I rubbed at my left ear with annoyance. They were damn loud.
“Did you put up a calm argument?” Gina questioned. She placed my two shots down in front of my face and lifted a beer from the cooler under the bar. It, too, was sat in front of me. “I told you that you needed to speak rationally to him.”
“I took your advice.” I bounced my forehead against my forearm twice and growled. “My father is an absolute overbearing, stubborn ass. I thought I almost had him, and then he put up the brick wall.”
There was a quiet grunt from the man next to me, the one who had brushed my arm. “Most fathers are a pain. I have one myself who I would categorize just as you did yours.” He paused, and stated, “Gina, I’ll take another beer, please.”
My attention perked as the man spoke. His accent was delicious. I’d never heard it before, and I had been many places in my twenty-four—almost twenty-five—years on this wretched war-torn earth. The tones of his voice were like honey and chocolate, each syllable fighting for the most delectable cadence.
My favorite bartender was breathless as she answered, “Coming right up.”
He must be a looker for her to act that way. She was the most married of married here on base. Thirty years of marriage, four children, and ten grandchildren. Gina was exactly what the marriage law had in mind when it was enacted almost one hundred years ago. A woman to help populate the earth again after we all but destroyed ninety percent of the population from war. A broodmare, for lack of a better term. But Gina actually loved her husband, and he loved her. They were a perfect match, even all these years later.
I sat up on my chair fully and lifted one of my shot glasses to the right.To the man who had sat down next to me.All I could see from under the bill of my ball cap was a deep gray suit. It appeared to be made of the finest material too. He was definitely corporate in that outfit, and a higher-up corporate, but I didn’t see many men who wore it quite so well. It fit him snug in his broad shoulders, and where he had unbuttoned the jacket, his white dress shirt was snug against a flat, trim stomach. His gray slacks hugged his thighs to perfection. The suit was indeed tailored to fit him; it was an extension of his powerful physique.
This man was rich in a world that lived in poverty.
He was everything my father hated.
“To overbearing fathers?” I asked, lifting my shot glass a little higher.
The man chuckled, and it was like a sultry night on satin sheets. He raised the beer Gina had left for him before she blushed and scurried to the other end of the bar. A dark tan hand, strong with perfectly manicured fingernails, angled his beer against my shot glass. The two clinked together under the low-hanging light.
He returned, “To overbearing fathers.”
We both tipped our drinks back in agreement of our toast. The whiskey warmed my throat just as I’d needed tonight. I pushed the empty glass away from me and pulled my beer closer.
I twirled my drink in slow motion and stared down the neck of the bottle to the golden alcohol, my anger rising once more. If my father just had listened, I wouldn’t have needed to plan my escape tonight. I wouldn’t have needed to forge his name on the Corporation Army’s enlistment—which was illegal in all the wrong ways. Now, I would be leaving him behind for a future he did not want for me.
“Speak again,” the man stated.
My brows puckered, but I didn’t look up from my stare down with my drink. “Why?”
He didn’t immediately answer. But when he did, it was quiet. “Your voice doesn’t hurt my ears.”
I chuckled. “That’s a new one.”
His shoulders shrugged. “It’s the truth.” He took another drink from his beer. “What’s your name?”
“Poppy.”
“That’s new.” He grunted and took another drink. “Last name?”
I didn’t hesitate to give him my middle name. I didn’t like people knowing I was the daughter of the great General Carvene. “My name’s Poppy Bree.”
He reciprocated in kind. “I’m Godric Leon.”
